Have You Seen My Pants?
by Alien26
Summary: Battlefield Heroes A paratrooper in the National Army has lost his pants! What will happen to this poor man?


The 126th Airborne Regiment was one of the finest units in the National Army. Solid discipline, specialized training, and a strong loyalty for their country distinguished this all Commando military unit. Sergeant Heinz Arnhem was no exception.

Although still at a young age of 19, Arnhem, know to his colleagues as "Dr. Arnhem" (he had a PhD in medicine), gained prestige and respect as an aggressive but clever soldier. Always the first to volunteer, and the last to retreat, he made a name for himself at the Battle of Coastal Clash and Bucaneer Bay. Most importantly, he was exceedingly proud of his unit, and the uniform issued to him. The paratrooper treated his clothes as if they were his Sunday best.

So when one morning he discovered his pants were missing, you, dear reader, can be certain he freaked out.

Everything else he brought with him he found with relative ease: Cap, coat, boots, the all-crucial parachute, scoped rifle, and knife.

Trousers were a different matter.

"No… no… no, no, no, no…" He started to flinging stuff out of his way. He simply could not leave the barracks without them. More objects attempted to achieve flight over his head: Alarm clock, t-shirt, underwear, socks, ammunition, manual guide, a DVD of The Notebook ( he briefly wondered who would pack that if they didn't have other sappy romance movies along with them), more underwear… but to no avail.

This was bad, he thought. He had been transferred to the 87th Mechanized Infantry, with the intent of providing the men a role model, and inspire them to join the ranks of the best fighting unit. Instead, he would be ridiculed, all because he would pose in his underwear. But worst of all, all of his other pairs were at the wash today, and he only had his special pair of –

"Sergeant Arnhem, you will leave this barrack to join us five minutes ago!"

Uh-oh. The major.

Major Upham Chunks commanded the 87th with an iron fist, and strict he was. If any a man even so much as spoke out of turn in his presence, it would be the last thing he said. Punishment included scrubbing everyone's boots, cleaning the toilets, or worse yet forced to wear the Dunce Cap of Shame.

Arnhem shuddered at the thought. He wouldn't dare blemish his spotless record, but he simply couldn't reveal his underwear to the world.

He clicked his boots and straightened up his stance. "Sir, begging your pardon, sir, but I seem to have misplaced my trousers, sir!"

"Well, UN-misplace them immediately! There's going to be an attack on the Royals at Seaside Skirmish!" the major retorted. "Besides, Private Jenkins here doesn't wear any pants, and although I wish his mother taught him better, I have no qualms about his sorry state of dress! As long as you do your duty, you can fight those Royals in your birthday suit, for all I care!"

"Sir, I do not wish to fight in my birthday suit or my boxers! I request for a spare pair of trousers!" Arnhem propositioned.

The Major chuckled. "No can do, Sergeant! Turns out we're fresh out of trousers! Our supplies are a little short, so you might as well come on out now!"

"But, sir—"

"DON'T BUTT SIR ME! EITHER YOU LEAVE THAT BARRACKS AS YOU ARE, OR YOU WILL LEAVE WEARING THE HAT OF SHAME!"

Sergeant Arnhem almost gasped in despair. Not the dreaded hat! Seeing as how there was no choice left, he fastened his boots and equipment and walked out the door.

The other soldiers stood in attention to show respect to the paratrooper. But what they saw surprised them.

Out stepped Doctor Arnhem, the famous paratrooper, wounded three times and recipient of the Iron Cross, the National's highest honor…

… sporting a pair of "Hello Kitty" boxers.

There was a stunned silence, save for the red-faced sergeant, feebly offering an explanation that these were his only clean pair, and the rest were in the laundry.

No one knows who started, but soon everyone fell to the floor, howling with laughter.

The scene couldn't have been more comical; the Major screaming at the top of his lungs for everyone to settle down, the paratrooper raising his own voice to explain that the level of professionalism in this unit was considerably lacking, and the soldiers who continued to bang their fists on the ground, the laughter roaring.

Eventually, Major Chunks regained order to discuss the plans for assaulting Seaside Skirmish. This, of course, didn't stop the men from looking every now and then at the sergeant's state of dress and snickering. Said sergeant noticed this, getting angrier all the time.

At dawn the next day, the attack commenced. Sergeant Arnhem raced for a tank and a chance for decency, but was beaten by a Gunner. As he took his place on top of the turret, he could hear the faint sound of chuckling. He sat down to face the bemused man.

"Look, I know this is not the most flattering piece of clothing," he protested, "but this is getting out of hand. I demand that you cease these childish antics and focus on the mission!"

"Whatever you say, Sergeant Kitty," the driver said, stifling a laugh.

An irate Arnhem launched an all out verbal explanation of the disrespect and lack of maturity of ridiculing a fellow soldier during a battle, all because of his underwear. He then proceeded to cite several codes of regulations the offending private violated and the appropriate punishments allotted for violating the codes of military law.

This, of course, meant both the Nationals' attention were directed away from the oncoming Royal Tanks.

When the first shot flew by, both men ceased their bickering and focused. They soon realized not only were they outgunned, but had drifted away from their objective, cut off from support.

The Gunner fired his cannon, dealing damage to one tank, which started to smoke. Two enemy tank guns responded, and the lone National tank caught on fire.

Now, Sergeant Arnhem had to make a choice: either he man the tank in place of the now dead Gunner and risk being killed himself, or exit the vehicle and risk no protection by armor, and worse yet expose the world his underwear.

This final thought made Sergeant Arnhem cringe. He couldn't near the humiliation his enemies. He almost consigned to die in his steel tomb—

NO! He couldn't go the coward's way! His National Ardor took him over. National are not Cowards! Nationals laughed in the face of death! And by God, he would prove he was a true National! Satisfied with his decision, he hopped out of the burning tank just as another shot destroyed it. He took out his TNT and charged, screaming "For the Homeland!"

What greeted him was not angry Royals, but instead, out of the tanks poured out men rolling on the grass, laughing. The hated enemy took notice of the paratrooper's state of dress and were highly amused.

This was the last straw for Dr. Arnhem, and he butchered his paralyzed enemies with his combat knife, both with military precision and streak of rage. Now, he was barking MAD. He used his quick escape to sprint to the Royal Base, killing any and all Royal soldiers he laid his eyes upon.

"You will all pay for making fun of my underwear!!!!"

At the end of the day, the Nationals seized control of Seaside Skirmish. The soldiers rallied around their new hero: Sergeant Dr. "Kitty" Arnhem. They cheered and carried him on their shoulders back to the base, singing the National Anthem with much gusto.

"Well, I'll be damned," Major Chunks said. "You made quite a fight back there, Sergeant."

"Thank you very much, sir!" Arnhem shouted, standing to attention.

"With that, I believe some rewards are appropriate." The Major pulled out a new rank badge. "For your bravery and actions in the battlefield, I hereby promote you, Sergeant Heinz 'Dr.' Arnhem, to the rank of First Sergeant." After placing the badge on the First Sergeant's shoulder, he shouted, "Atten-SHUN!" The rest of the men in the squad saluted the newly promoted man. Arnhem proudly returned the salute.

"And, as an added bonus," the Major went to one of the Royals, and removed his trousers. "Here's some spares." The paratrooper put them on. Although it didn't quite fit his uniform, he was glad he finally had some. He felt complete once more.

Then the Major said, "Now, who wants a chocolate milkshake?! Drinks are on me!" the men cheered wildly once more, and they all piled in the jeeps and took off to the nearest bar.

First Sergeant Heinz Arnhem would never forget this day.

Later, at the Royals spawn point, one soldier asked, "Has anyone seen my pants?"


End file.
